


Finding Us in Our Atmosphere

by asphodelknox



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Airplanes, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Long Way Down - Freeform, M/M, Song Inspired, angst just makes me cry, mitam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-18 09:40:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11871642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asphodelknox/pseuds/asphodelknox
Summary: Falling in love sets you up for a long tumble. Especially when you and your partner never get to properly talk or be together.OR Louis says something he instantly regrets and Harry leaves before he can think properly. They find their way back to each other up in the sky.





	Finding Us in Our Atmosphere

**Author's Note:**

> Many, many, many thanks to my friends and betas: [Vivi](http://hlficpraise.tumblr.com/), [India](https://indiaalphawhiskey.tumblr.com/), [Brit](https://haloeverlasting.tumblr.com/) and [Tabitha](http://suddenclarityharry.tumblr.com/). My stories exist because of you. 
> 
> This story was written for the Made in the A.M. Fic Fest, inspired by the song Long Way Down.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** This is a work of fiction with mature and/or explicit content that is not suitable for readers under the age of 18. I absolutely do not condone minors reading this work of fiction and encourage anyone underage to stop reading immediately. Thank you.

Harry fell into his seat in the back corner of first class with a heavy sigh. His whole body felt sore, like he’d run a marathon, then competed in a triathlon, only to run across the entire Atlantic to get home to London. He wanted nothing more than to sit for ten hours. He didn't want to move, not if he could help it.

It had been three months since he had last seen Louis Tomlinson. Three months since that terrible conversation and the start of a period of broken communication that felt like the end of his world. He rested his head in his hands. Those three months felt more like three hours. Three minutes. Three seconds. 

If it was only three seconds, maybe he could get Louis back. 

He had arrived in Rome, hoping for a happy weekend with Louis, one where they could pretend for a little while that their work lives weren’t encroaching on their personal life with the force of the flu in December. 

Instead, he’d left the room in a huff, hurt, upset, and feeling sick to his stomach.

It was whiplash of the worst kind, a heart-wrenching, gut twisting, knife in the back, straight through the heart kind of pain that hadn’t eased up, even as he’d tried to get over the love of his life. Tried to convince himself that maybe they were better this way. Maybe the endless work trips were a sign that they just weren’t meant to be. 

_ That’s the thing though _ , he thought to himself with a twinge of his heart,  _ I still think we’re meant to be _ . 

The other passengers trickled into their seats, muffled mutterings and shuffling feet signaling the flight’s imminent departure to London. The seat to his left remained empty and he couldn’t help but feel grateful. He hadn’t been in much of a mood to talk with anyone recently. The flight attendant walked over to Harry. 

“Could I get you something to drink, love?” She asked, her face kind and polite. 

“Just water, please. Without ice.” She nodded, seeming to sense his melancholy. 

The window was open and Harry leaned forward to peer out of it, the sunshine of L.A. feeling too chipper and bright for the dark pit in his stomach. 

Harry shut his eyes, blocking out his last views of L.A. The stewardess delivered his water and a pre-flight snack, which he left on the seat next to him. He leaned back and rested his head against the headrest. 

He and Louis had been friends since childhood. Their mums were best friends and the boys, despite a two-year age difference, got along like a house on fire. They helped each other with classes, attended camps, took family trips together. It wasn’t until Louis left for university that Harry understood the greatest truth of his life. 

Louis was it for him. Harry knew he was fine on his own, of course. But Louis made his life better than he could imagine. And Harry wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with Louis, no matter where that took him.

They’d gotten together in university, and from that day on they were inseparable. When Louis had had an internship in Spain over a summer, Harry had gone with him, working a part-time job so they could live in a small flat in Barcelona. When Harry had graduated, they had moved to Paris for a year, both of them pursuing their careers, before finally settling in a London flat they hardly ever used. 

Their frequent traveling kept them at a busy pace, one that hardly allowed them breaks, except for their birthdays and Christmas. The frenetic pace limited how much they could be together, how many new memories they could make together. The past three years had been a blur of text messages, Facetime calls, and the occasional meetup at some hotel in a foreign country. Hardly ever in their own home. 

Harry felt the plane take off, the thrust, the lift, the leveling out. He sighed and counted back, his eyes bouncing behind his eyelids. Five years. Five years of loving his best friend, loving the man who had loved him and known him better than anyone ever could. 

All over in a heartbeat because of a fight over their conflicting schedules. They both had jobs with plenty of travel, which they enjoyed at first, trying their hardest to travel together as often as they could. 

Four and a half years in and they realized they’d been traveling too much. It had all come to a head in a hotel in Rome, the first business trip they’d had together in over a year.

He’d gotten upset. Louis had too. They’d said things that they shouldn’t have. Louis accused Harry of taking on extra work trips. Harry accused Louis of spending too much money on his work trips. It was a circling argument, Harry’s extra trips fueled by Louis’s extra spending, motivated by his missing Harry. 

Harry saw the minute Louis regretted saying “Maybe we should take a break then!”. The flash of fear, the panic, the dawn of understanding of his own rash thinking. But Harry had already responded and wasn’t in the mood to take anything back. “Fine. I’m getting a different room.” He stormed out and they hadn’t talked until Louis was on his way back to London and Harry was flying to Dubai. 

Harry knew, in his heart and in his head, that they had reacted rashly. They’d made a split-second decision, with ramifications that both of them were too tired to wrap their heads around. He had texted Louis, asking for a time to call and talk. Just as he had pressed send, he’d received a text from Louis asking the same thing. It had led to once-a-day texts, missed phone calls, and no connection. 

He had tried. He really had. Old habits, desires to just  _ know _ , driving him to reach out and see how Louis was. But the chaotic schedules that had led to their demise prevented their contact and he’d receive texts back several hours later, wake up to voice messages marked at 3 am his time, but 7 pm Louis’s time. 

They hadn’t even returned home to London at the same time. Harry had been home twice in the three months since their fight and had seen traces of Louis, his clothes in the hamper, his shoes messily placed by the floor, a carton of leftover milk in the fridge. Their apartment was sparse anyway, they’d had little time to hang up Harry’s extensive art collection or arrange their favorite movies when they’d moved in, always pushing it off until the next time they both would be home. It made the small traces of Lou seem bigger, in such stark contrast to the lack of decoration in the apartment. 

The trace of his smell on Louis’s side of the bed was what got Harry the most. Harry had spent his nights on Louis’s side of the bed and wondered if Louis had done the same, spending his nights on Harry’s side of the bed. He had woken up from one of those nights sleeping on Louis’s pillow that he received a message sparking hope in his heart again. 

“I still love you.” Texted from Louis to him. 

“I still love you too.” Harry had responded and meant it. 

He wished they’d said it more. He wished he could text it to Louis every day, every hour. Louis deserved to know he was loved beyond words. But Harry wasn’t sure if Louis wanted to know. He didn’t want to ruin whatever fragile thread still held their relationship together.

The hope that their relationship could be salvaged was both too much to bear and not enough to live on, all at the same time. 

Harry opened his eyes, suddenly feeling like he couldn’t sit for ten hours. Instead of wanting to sit, he wanted to  _ run _ . He unbuckled his seatbelt and stretched. Running wasn’t an option, but at least walking was. Perhaps a few laps up and down the aisles would help. The seatbelt sign was off, so he stepped out into the aisle and started slowly walking towards the back of the plane. He kept his eyes down, careful not to trip on people’s seats. Careful not to make eye contact.

Could they see his hope and his fear written on his features? He felt sure they were inked into his skin. He absentmindedly ran his finger over his anchor tattoo. No wonder he felt unmoored. Louis was always his anchor. How was Harry supposed to stay grounded without him?

He came to the back of the plane, and quietly ignored the flight attendants getting the beverage cart ready. He walked over to the back door, peeking through the window. 

They were already somewhere in the middle of the States. Harry could see the mountains beneath them through a cloudless sky. He wondered for a moment what it would be like to jump, to let himself fall, how long that far would feel. If maybe the air rushing by his face would push some life back into him. 

He shook himself. He knew what that fall was like. He’d fallen for Louis and that had been life-giving and destiny-altering in ways he hadn’t anticipated. 

It was a long way down. 

“Harry?” 

Harry started at the voice he’d only heard through voicemails and dreamed about late at night. He turned around hesitantly, incredulously. Louis stood there, looking at him with a mixture of hope and hesitancy and pain and surprise. What was Louis doing on this plane? Were they both headed back to London at the same time? 

“Louis.” Harry breathed. He didn’t let himself think and instead took one long step forward and wrapped his arms around the smaller man.  _ His _ man. He felt Louis snake his arms around Harry’s waist, bury his face in Harry’s shoulder. As he always did. Maybe there was a chance.

“I miss you.” Louis’s silvery voice whispered. Harry just buried his nose in Louis’s hair and held Louis closer to him.

They stood like that for a minute, not seeing the curious looks from the flight attendants or the passengers looking for the bathrooms. Harry promised himself that this time he wasn’t letting go. 

He pulled back and cupped Louis’s face in his hands. “What’re you doing here?” He searched those blue eyes, letting himself get lost in them like he hadn’t in months. 

“I could ask you the same thing, Haz,” Louis said fondly, squeezing Harry’s hips. One tear fell from his wet eyes and Harry caught it with his thumb. Louis wasn’t crying, but his eyes were full enough to burst.

“We haven’t been home at the same time in three months, and now we’ve somehow ended up on the same plane?” Harry felt like maybe something was finally working out in his favor. A gentle glimmer of light was peeking through the clouds.

Louis shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “We planned this, remember? Five months ago, we knew this would be one of the rare times we’d see each other. We must have just forgotten.” He let out a breathy laugh. “We’re too busy.” 

Harry  _ had _ forgotten. He’d become so overwhelmed by the possibility of not seeing Louis again that he had hardly paid more attention to his schedule than he needed to. He’d let himself fly from place to place, not planning further ahead than necessary. He hadn’t even remembered to eat breakfast that morning, come to think of it. He couldn’t remember what he’d had for dinner the night before either.

“Please tell me you’re still planning on going home, to our home, and like, not to a hotel or something,” Harry said, hands still gripping Louis’s face. It was a request from deep inside him, hoping, wishing, praying that somehow that “I still love you” meant everything he wanted it to mean. Meant that Louis still wanted him. 

“I am if you are,” Louis said, stepping closer to Harry, as close as he could without squishing him against the plane’s door. Harry let out a sigh.

“I definitely am.” Harry felt the strains of his first genuine smile break onto his face. He sighed and felt more tears touch his thumbs. “God, Lou, I miss you. I’m so sorry.” He rested his forehead against Louis’s. 

Louis sniffed. “ _ I’m _ sorry, Haz. It was my fault, I shouldn’t have said we should take a break.” He sighed and Harry felt the shudder in his hands. “If I could take it back I would. I’d give up my job any and every day if it meant I get you forever.”

Harry nodded and slid his arms down Louis's arms to grasp his hands. “I would too. I just forgot that you were more important, but I won’t anymore. I promise.” He squeezed Louis’s hands. “We’ve probably saved up enough money now to retire if we want.” He grinned and felt his dimples show. They always did that around Louis. Just like Louis’s eyes always crinkled when he was around Harry. 

Louis chuckled. “Maybe we don’t have  _ that _ much. But enough to change jobs, something that won’t have us traveling all over the world, never seeing each other.”

“I  _ need _ to see you more, Lou,” Harry said, tugging Louis closer if that was even possible. 

He’d spent a lot of time thinking, airplane rides and trains and bus rides, across countries and continents. He’d thought about how, if he could go back, he wouldn’t have accepted a job with so much travel, a job that limited how much he could see his partner, the person who was the most important part of his world. He should have figured out a way to put Louis first. He wanted to do that now. 

“I  _ want _ to see you more.” He amended. “I owe it to you, and to me, and to us, to be together more.” 

Louis nodded. “Are you in first class again?” 

“Yeah. There’s an empty seat next to mine if you want it.” Louis nodded. ““How did you know I was on the plane anyway?” 

“I saw you walking down the aisle. I somehow got a middle seat.” He shuddered. “But I looked up and there you were, looking like you were trying so hard not to trip. It felt like I got a lucky break.” He giggled. “It took me ages to get out of my seat cause my seatmate was already out like a light. I had to awkwardly climb over him.” Louis chuckled. “Otherwise I probably would have caught you in the aisle and kissed you right there.” 

Harry smirked. “You haven’t kissed me yet.” 

Louis smirked back knowingly. “Well then, I should fix that, shouldn’t I?” And he gently placed his hands behind Harry’s neck and pulled the taller man down to him, meeting Harry’s lips with his own. 

Harry couldn’t help but grin into the kiss, pulling Louis as close as possible, forgetting that they were on an airplane, in public, several thousand feet above the ground. As he kissed Louis for the first time in three months, Harry felt like he was flying. 

 

________

 

They arrived home to their flat hand in hand. After depositing their suitcases in their bedroom, they collapsed on their couch, laptops in their laps and typed out messages to their bosses. Louis chuckled with glee and Harry felt free for the first time in three years. All that travel must have been getting to them because once they had successfully clicked send on their emails, the raced from the couch to bed, leaping into the duvet, eager to be together in their own home. 

They didn’t leave their flat for a week. They spent half the time in bed and the other half around the house, hanging artwork, organizing DVD’s, and filling the space with the memories they’d needed. 

They were home.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr [here](https://iamasphodelknox.tumblr.com/) and share the masterpost for the story [here](https://iamasphodelknox.tumblr.com/post/164458093039/title-finding-us-in-our-atmosphere-author) if you like it! Be sure to check out the masterpost for the Made In the A.M. Fic Fest to read the other stories inspired by each of the songs off the album!


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